


Ladybugs and Standing Ovations

by BullySquadess



Series: Theatre Au [2]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: And thus, Drabble Series, F/M, Mutual Pining, but bully accidentally added an extra ingrediant...., but expect things to be out of chronological order, impractical uses for mic tape, showmances, the miraculous theatre au was born, there are some multichap arcs, theses are the ingrediants used to make theatre kids, too much caffeine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 17:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9196634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BullySquadess/pseuds/BullySquadess
Summary: A continuation of my fic "Black Cats and Curtain Calls", based off of tumblr user Caprette's theatre au.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I told ya'll not to let me write for this au anymore.  
> Filthy enablers.

Theatre was a lot of things to a lot of people.

For some it was a reprieve from their everyday problems, an opportunity to escape into another reality, if only for a short amount of time. For others, it was a was a way of life, a passion they could (if they were lucky enough) turn into a career somewhere down the line.

Theatre brought people together, uncovered hidden talents in those who would have never discovered them otherwise. It made musicians of the tone-deaf, performers of the meek, and leaders of the followers, harboring a space for anyone and everyone willing to try.

Theatre was an art, theatre was a _culture_ , but above all theatre was a contagion.

And Marinette Dupain-Cheng had it _bad._

There had been a time (a distant, now-forgotten time) when she’d cared about things that didn’t pertain to the stage. There’d been a time when her cell phone had contained music other than show tunes, and her walls hadn’t been plastered with playbills. There’d been weekends she’d spent _not_ hitting up the newest musical on the Paris show circuit, euros she’d spent _not_ cleaning out the box office, and moments she’d spent _not_ fantasizing about the lights and the costumes and…

It was all Alya’s fault.

Alya “Sure! We’ll definitely come to the cast party!” Cesaire.

Alya “Auditions for the spring musical you say? I’m in!” Cesaire.

Alya “You’ll come see me every night, won’t you Mari?” Cesaire.

Of _course_ Marinette had gone to see her best friend’s stage debut, cheering madly each time she caught a glimpse of red hair peeking out from the chorus of anthropomorphic cats, it was girl code law. And a particularly handsome, particularly _blonde_ tomcat had absolutely nothing to do with her nightly attendance, thank-you-very-much.

(Neither did his skin-tight bodysuit.)

Marinette had thought she was safe in the audience. Surely the theatre bug couldn’t bite her if she didn’t step foot on stage. Alya could indulge her newly re-awakened love of drama all she wanted, drown herself in rehearsals and tap lessons and voice coaching till she dropped from pure exhaustion, but Marinette was smarter than that. She knew as long as she stayed rooted in her seat, politely shaking her head every time Nino dropped cues about needing a new prop master or Alya hinted at an opening in the costume department, she’d manage to get through this sickness relatively un-scathed.

Spoiler alert: Marinette was not “smarter than that.”

Marinette was weak, easily bought. All it took was a tour of the sound booth and peek at the fabric storehouse (so many notations!) before the cast and crew of the Golden Oak Theatre Company had lured her from her safe spot in the audience and trapped their colorful, hectic world.

Originally, her involvement started small, and took place only during production weeks. From the time a show opened to the time it closed, Marinette would offer her services for whatever odd role needed filling. Sewing buttons, dispensing mic tape, manning the concession stand- if you had a simple task, she had a pair of hands with which to do it, and for a time that was enough.

Eventually, however, the virus grew inside her.

By June, three months after the closing of Meet Me in St. Louis, two after the closing of Cats, and one since Marinette had first started volunteering her time, the historical theater house became less a mysterious labyrinth and more a second home. Her odd jobs become less and less odd, her simple tasks grew increasingly more complex.

Concessions turned to box office turned to full on show-promotion. Dispensing mic tape turned to pulling curtains turned to building massive set pieces. Buttons turned to blouses turned to ballgowns, and before Marinette knew it she was a full-fledged member of crew, clad in all-black as she bustled backstage.

 _‘This is all Alya’s fault,’_ Marinette thought, downing a five hour energy in preparation for tonight’s second showing

 _‘Also Nino’s,’_ she amended, listening to the stage manager direct through her headpiece as she wheeled a windmill façade onto a darkened stage.

_‘And let’s not forget-‘_

“Thanks Princess,” Adrien said, flashing that oh-so-dazzling smile as Marinette brushed the last of the fake blood onto his oozing forehead cut. He pantomimed his customary hand kiss (obviously he couldn’t risk smearing his stage makeup) before bounding back on stage, launching into rousing speech that seemed impossibly deep for someone who’d been juggling Ben Nye cream foundations a scant five minutes beforehand.

Marinette collapsed back onto one of the many couches littering the green room, her heartbeat fluttering in a way not attributed to the lethal amounts of caffeine in her system.

Adrien Agreste, like his chosen passion in life, was a contagion.

And boy did she have it _bad._

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that while my last theatre fic was rated G, this one is set at T, so prepare for some s a u c i n e s s. The teens are around 17 here, but I'm going to TRY and stay out of M-rated territory.
> 
> (I'll probably fail. Theatre kids are notoriously horny motherfuckers.)


End file.
